


The Roads We Take

by Bogpaddle



Category: South Park
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Body Swap, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hand-wavey Magic, Illustrations, M/M, Stan and Kyle are so in denial about their feelings that they switch bodies lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogpaddle/pseuds/Bogpaddle
Summary: Kyle is in love with Stan, that much he knows. He doesn't really know how switching bodies plays into that.(Hello! Second fic woohoo! I wrote this this week because I didn't have much else to do, I just took the idea and ran with it. :D beta-ed by my wonderful friend Tsu.)All the art is by me!Edit 03/08/21: fixed minor spelling errors and formatting!
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Some background Craig Tucker/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 13
Kudos: 96





	The Roads We Take

Kyle woke on the morning of October 28th feeling sticky with sweat and uncomfortably warm, dimly noticing that he was tangled inside of his sheets. He must have slept pretty hard, he thought, and carefully dislodged himself from the grip of them, sticking his legs over the edge of the bed. He noted that his hair was a lot calmer than usual because strands kept falling over into his eyes and he had to keep brushing them away. Another thing that was odd that morning was that, strangely, he went to bed in much different night clothes than the ones he was wearing now, which was just a simple t-shirt over some thinly striped blue and red pants.

He stood and shuffled his way toward the door of his room, but still something felt very off about the whole thing as he did it. He made his way down the hallway and toward the bathroom, almost bumping into someone in the process, and went to apologize to the person (who he assumed was his mother or maybe Ike), but to his surprise was Sharon Marsh.

“Oh, sorry Mrs. Marsh, I, uh-” he stopped mid sentence realizing his voice was not his. Okay, he thought he heard Stan’s voice coming out of his mouth, which was not possible. Maybe Stan was behind him? No, he thought again. Although it was pretty normal for them to stay over at each other’s houses, he had not felt another person in the bed, and besides it has been a few months since they had the time to do such a thing.

“Stanley? Honey, are you alright?” Sharon asked, voice filled with concern since her son was just standing there wide eyed and looking around like he hadn’t at all been here before.

Slowly, Kyle realized what he was doing and answered. “Ah yeah, Mrs. Marsh. I just need to get to the bathroom, sorry.” Kyle then rushed around the corner and into the bathroom, suddenly much more awake.

Shutting the door briskly and flipping the light on, he made his way to the mirror at the left side of the room above the sink. He put his hands on the faux granite counter space surrounding it and dared himself to look into the mirror. 

“Oh.” 

It was all he could say when he saw his reflection. All that could be heard was the quiet ticking of the bathroom clock on the wall as Kyle put a hand to Stan’s- no, _his_ face. This was his face. Or, it was Stan’s face but he was wearing it. Okay.

“Oh shit.” He took in the jet black hair strands framing his face and the cowlick that stuck up in the back, and those big blue eyes. The quiet _tick, tick_ of the clock felt like it was drowning him. Suddenly reminded of where he was, he peeled his eyes away from his reflection and looked at it. It was just past 8:00 am; he’s going to be late for the bus. “Oh, shit!”

He hurriedly brushed his teeth and made his hair look somewhat okay, which was surprisingly easy to do compared to his normal rat's nest, and rushed out to get dressed for the day, throwing on whatever was the most presentable. He settled for a clean sweatshirt from the back of the closet that looked like it hadn’t been worn in forever, and some jeans. 

“Bye Mrs. Mar-- mom!” he shouted as he left through the front door with a backpack half strewn over his shoulders, and dark blue coat caught messily in its straps. He quickly walked down the cement steps and over the snowed sidewalk leading away from the Marsh house. He had to get to the bus stop. Was Stan in his body? Was he Stan waking up or something? Was this a dream? No, it couldn’t be a dream, it has to be real, unwilling as he was to accept it.

-

Stan stood groggily at the bus stop, confused and cold. He messed with “his” hair as best as he could but could not get it to be tame enough, so he just let it be its poofy self. Briefly wondering how Kyle ever put up with this unruly mop of hair, he waited for anyone else to show up to the stop. 

He sighed as he glanced out over the rising sun and the soft glow it cast on the snow covered ground, before watching the steam escape his mouth into the cold late October air. He was in such shock he forgot Kyle’s phone on the way to the stop too, that he couldn’t call anyone, so waiting was really the only option he had. Was it just him and Kyle? Was it even Kyle that changed with him?

Suddenly an arm threw itself around his shoulders and he let loose an undignified squawk of surprise. “Kenny!” he gasped out. 

Kenny laughed and leaned back to unwrap the scarf from around his head and unzip his newer brown parka a little bit so his words could be heard clearer.

“Kyle! I’m surprised to see you here this early, dude, what’s up? No late night studying?” tittering as he said the last bit, then: “whoa, no hat?” 

Shit. Stan completely forgot it in his rush to get outside of the Broflovski residence as fast as possible and to the stop. Kyle wasn’t usually seen without one of his many thick hats, especially on cold mornings like this. 

“I just forgot it this morning Ken,” he let out hotly. Apparently being in Kyle’s body meant that he had his temper too, go figure. “Anyway, what’s with you? I don’t usually see you out here early enough to catch the bus, don’t you drive to school?” 

“Ah yeah,” Kenny said, a little flustered. “My car kind of got stuck in the driveway last night and I uh, haven’t really been able to move it.” He laughed nervously. Stan looked at him for a few seconds then turned away. He really, _really_ did not know how to even bring up the fact that he was not really Kyle, so he let the conversation die after a few more things were said. Looking at the gilded pocket watch his best friend kept in his coat pocket, it read about 7:50, so the bus must be running a little late. Ah well.

So he stood there waiting, Kenny next to him on his phone doing god-knows-what. Stan would periodically peek over to look, but was unable to really see what was on the screen because Kyle really fucking needed glasses, no matter how hard he denied it. Soon the figure of himself was on the horizon visibly huffing as he trotted through the snow, which was an extremely weird sight. His body, er, Kyle maybe? Came to a stop just a few lengths away from the bus terminal, both Stan and Kenny staring as whoever was in Stan’s actual body panted, bent over with one hand on their knee and the other resting on the lamp post. 

After a few seconds, they rose, straightened the messily slung backpack, and looked directly at Stan, who flinched under the intensity of their gaze. 

“Uh, Stan?” Kenny could be heard saying cautiously. 

Stan’s body looked toward Kenny and waved him off while saying “Hi Kenny, I’m just gonna talk to Kyle for a sec, no worries,” and grabbed Stan by the arm.

For some reason Stan could not help but flush at the contact, but that was noted rather dimly because he could not get over how he was like, a good 5 inches shorter than usual now, so looking up at himself was very strange.

The person led him over a few feet away from the bus stop terminal and under the nearest oak tree that was covered in the freshly fallen snow. The person took a deep breath “... okay. Who’s in there. Is it Cartman? Swear to god dude if it’s actually you in there…” They trailed off angrily, but something was different about it. It’s definitely Kyle. 

Still, Stan backed away a little bit from his friend and shook his head.

“It’s me, dude.” he said, a little sheepishly, and all building anger in Kyle’s face seemed to dissipate, now just being replaced with confusion and frustration. 

“Stan?” 

“Uh, yeah. It’s me, Kyle.” Stan said the name, testing it out, because even though he was sure it was him, he couldn’t be too sure after all. He knew his best friend though, and was confident that that’s who it was behind his own face. 

Laughing a little crazily, Kyle stepped back and said “Okay, this is just too weird, and we know _weird_ , dude, like even for our town, but. This is just...” 

Stan nodded quickly in agreement and moved a little closer to his best friend.

Running a hand through his hair, Kyle murmured, “How did this happen...”

Stan stepped even closer and placed a hand on his arm in reassurance, which made Kyle look down at him in surprise. It really was all he could do, given the circumstances. He looked up into his own eyes, and then immediately over toward the bus stop where he could see Kenny watching them peculiarly. 

“Kenny! Mind your own business!” Kyle yelled suddenly, but it only made Kenny look at them even more confused. Turning back to his friend, he said “I think we should go back to the terminal, our bus will be here soon. Maybe. It’s 8:10 right now, it’s pretty late.” 

Right on cue, the large vehicle pulled up and Kenny made gestures calling them over. They ran toward the bus and hopped on quickly, the driver huffing in her seat as she shifted her position tiredly and sipped from a steaming cup of coffee, as if she herself had woken up to an unwelcome alarm.

The ride over to the South Park High School was filled with subdued chatter. Stan and Kyle sat beside each other in their usual places at the back of the bus next to Kenny and sometimes Cartman, though he preferred driving most of the days to school in his shitty pickup. Kyle was surprised he even got a license in the first place, let alone a car that actually has made it through two years of his insane driving. When they stopped at the school and began filing out, it was just about 15 minutes into first period. Thankfully they were excused on behalf of the school due to their bus driver’s tardiness. 

Stan walked alongside his best friend to their shared class in English, but was worrying about the rest of the day. He didn’t know his ass from his hands in physics, not to even mention _advanced_ physics. And he was sure that Kyle knew nothing about playing the saxophone, and Kyle _definitely_ could not draw even a stick figure. God or whoever was up there seemed to be laughing at this whole situation because there was a big critique today in his painting class, which Kyle had absolutely no recent experience in apart from the occasional finger painting. He put his face in his hand and scrubbed downward. How were they even going to make it through this… 

-

By third period, Kyle was completely over this switch thing. He somehow stumbled through Stan’s music class, despite only having a rudimentary understanding of how to read music and how to keep up. Thankfully Stan's body seemed to be tuned to detect rhythm, so he didn’t struggle too much in that department. He tried to play his sax as quietly as possible, but even then he did get some weird glances, Stan apparently being first chair in his section. Even beforehand having to ask one of Stan’s friends what locker he had it in under the guise of him being “really tired” was awkward. The next period was lunch, thankfully, which would give him some time to talk to Stan.

He arrived in the cafeteria uncharacteristically starving, and immediately went in line to grab some food. He worried for Stan because he was unsure if he brought the glucose test kit he kept in his bag. He should have reminded him. Then again, maybe Stan would have remembered anyway. 

He made his way down to where Stan was sitting with his lunch of a salad, but paused when he saw the small container of grape juice. 

“You’re really going to drink that?” He asked, sitting down across from him. 

Stan looked up at the sound of Kyle’s (his own) voice and shrugged. “Only a little bit, I guess. I have the kit with me, so like, I think it’s safe.”

“You _think_ it’s safe...?” Kenny chimed in from his seat next to Stan, and paused to take a bite of a dry chicken burger. Kyle was becoming increasingly uncomfortable around Kenny today, he seemed to be picking up that something wasn’t right with his two friends. 

Stan looked over to Kenny and opened the juice, took a quick swig and put it back down. “Yeah. It’s not like I’m going to drink all of it or anything.” When he turned back around to face Kyle he looked almost mournfully at his lunch of two thick slices of pizza, South Park High’s cafeteria food being surprisingly better than most, and went back to his salad, stabbing a cherry tomato and popping it in his mouth. 

“I really don’t know how you do it. “ Kyle said at a lower volume toward Stan when Kenny was busy talking to Craig.

“Do what?” Stan asked. 

Kyle took a bite of the pizza, relishing in the gooey cheese and the fatty taste. He rarely ever got to have food like this.

“I mean,” he swallows. “Like, instruments and stuff, and art next period? I have no idea how to do that either. I guess I should have stayed with it.” He took another bite and Stan looked kind of disgusted. Kyle couldn’t really blame him, it’s a little weird watching yourself eat, “But. Whoever would anticipate a situation like this one. Here, I’ll show you how to take a glucose test. You took a shot, didn’t you?”

Stan nodded quietly, getting the kit out of his bag. They both got up to go somewhere more private, like the lone table in the corner of the room. “I didn’t take a shot, I’m, mm, you know I don’t like needles. And it’s kind of hard to remember this, I’m kind of new at it.” he muttered the last bit.

“Whether you’re new or not you should get in the habit. We don’t know how long we will be like this. Just don’t look if it helps,” Kyle said impatiently. “Anyway. Here. Give me your hand.” 

Stan held out his right hand and Kyle gently took it in his. 

“Go for the side of your finger. Stan, don’t look away, you need to learn.” He shot the lancet into Stan’s finger and Stan flinched a little, watching as Kyle gently squeezed the blood from the finger and onto the test strip.

“Then you just wait for the results.” He paused and swallowed, his mouth a little dry. “It’s somewhat high, but you’re getting a shot anyway so it’s fine. Just don’t go eating more sugar today, okay?” 

Stan nodded, then looked over Kyle’s shoulder at something, causing Kyle to turn around. Kenny was walking toward them with a smile on his face. “Ey guys! Whatcha doing over here?” 

“Nothing, Kenny, I’m just teaching Sta- I mean, helping Kyle with his insulin,” he flubbed. “We were just about to go to the bathroom so I can help-”

“Make sure you ‘help’ him good, Stan.” A sly smirk played across Kenny’s features as he turned around back to Craig, who was walking nearby. 

Kyle rolled his eyes, typical Kenny. Kyle led Stan into the bathroom, receiving a light protest because Stan _knew where it was already, thank you very much._

“Right. Don’t be squeamish about it, it’s only a needle.” 

Stan nods again, visibly becoming annoyed, but conceding. “And it’s over quick?” He asked, warily eyeing the needle Kyle pulled from his bag. 

Thank god they were in there, Kyle really didn’t want to have to drag Stan to the nurse’s office now. 

“Yes. Watch.” He cleaned the spot he usually did it in and, putting Stan's hand on the plunger as a guide for him, injected it. “Easy.” The bell for fourth period rang the moment he said this, punctuating it. 

Stan let out a sigh and put his shirt back down, sat there on the chair for a few moments just looking at Kyle. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just… I’m really not looking forward to your advanced physics, dude,” he said and then he looked down, seemingly wanting to say more but not knowing how. 

Kyle felt an urge to run his fingers through Stan’s auburn curls to get them to calm down, but fought it and instead just put his hand on his shoulder. 

“You’ll get through it,” he smiled.

-

The clock ticked by slowly as Stan stared at the paper in front of him on the desk. He couldn’t believe it. Of all the days for this to happen, it had to be a day of a surprise quiz. Something about thermodynamics? The person next to him, Wendy, nudged his arm with her elbow as if to ask what was wrong with him. He looked at the question again and again, hoping that it would somehow reveal its answer to him in some way, but nothing came to mind.

Sighing, he realized he wrote the wrong name at the top of the paper and quickly erased it, changing it to his current body’s namesake. He thought for a moment about this whole thing, how being suddenly right handed felt so odd and yet right at the same time, how this body reacted to the food he ate, how he even heard _music_ differently. He tried listening to some of his favorite bands earlier but discovered that even though he could recognize his favorite songs as being good, he didn’t enjoy them as much as he normally would. He tapped the eraser end of his pencil against the paper quietly and stretched, looking up at the clock again.

He must have been one of the last to hand in the test, which was mostly blank, he guessed he could just explain it as an off day. He went back to the desk he shared with Wendy and began to pick up his things to head off to psychology, a class he had with Kyle.

“Hey are you okay? You seem kind of off.” He heard Wendy note, and he shot his head up to look at her in his surprise. Wendy hasn’t really spoken to him in a while, not since their last fling a few months ago. They dated maybe once or twice since high school started, this last one being longer than the previous but ultimately they decided to end it on mutual terms, Stan thought. 

“Uh, Kyle.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face and Stan shook his head out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah Wends, I’m fine. Uh, I’m just a little out of it today, I guess,” he said nervously.

“Wends? I think you’ve been around Stan a little too much,” she laughed, gathering her own things to go to whatever class she had next, probably some advanced writing or whatever. She loved to do that stuff. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kyle! Feel better.” With that, she walked away and out the door.

Walking over to the next class later than usual after a brief stop at Kyle’s locker, Stan was lucky enough that their psychology teacher was lax with her students if they came in a little late. He made his way to the desk group that he shared with Kyle and one other kid named Trevor, who must have been skipping class again today.

“Dude, there was a surprise quiz in physics today,” Stan said as he sat down, putting his satchel on the floor.

“What?! Oh, god, at least those don’t impact our grade too much. I really hope this doesn’t last super long.” Kyle said half to himself, opening Stan’s worn psychology book and flipping the pages until he got to the one they would be looking over today.

“Right! Class, just as you know we will be doing a case study, but before that I want to quickly go over a few things in chapter 8,” said Mrs. Penderghast, eyeing her students, and beginning the lecture.

-

“That was disgusting.” Stan hated case studies because he found them disturbingly violent. He definitely did not have “psychologist” written in his future. “Dude. I can’t believe there are people out there even like that.” he said, shaking his head.

“I thought it was interesting!” Kyle earned a scathing look from Stan, “...but I do see where you’re coming from. Speaking of, you have a very weak stomach. I mean. I actually had to look away for most parts.” 

Stan rolled his eyes at this. Kyle knew he had a bad stomach, but he guessed he was just complaining because he was experiencing it firsthand.

“By the way, how was the critique in painting? Did you say anything?” He changed the subject, not wanting to dwell too much on the case study.

“Oh, yeah. I might have attempted to give a few tips, but. They were all kind of bad. I have no idea about the terminology, and explaining your piece was… well. ” Kyle stopped, exasperated.

Stan hummed in affirmation. They walked the rest of the way to their respective last periods of the day in comfortable silence, Stan hoping that this last class was at least mercifully easy.

-

On the evening of the 3rd, Stan wasn’t even sure how he made it this far. Kyle’s mom seemed to be picking up on something, but she for once was being very tame and quiet about it, so much unlike her usual bombastic and nosy self. She fixed a dinner of beef stew for the boys and Kenny and set aside one for Eric. It was Kyle’s favorite meal, and he could tell that his friend was sorely missing his home, even though he tried hard to hide it.

Stan, Kyle and Kenny were all gathered in Kyle’s room for a night of video games and hanging out. Foregoing a game session of World of Warcraft, they instead went for a night of GTA IV for just dumb violence. Stan was stretched out next to Kyle on the floor in front of the foot of his bed, and Kenny leaning backwards on Kyle’s computer chair.

For him, there was a lingering uncomfortableness that he couldn’t describe. He missed his body, waking up and seeing his own face in the mirror instead of his best friend’s. It brought a shock to his sense of self each time he thought about it, looking down and seeing the soft, pale freckled hands instead of his own calloused ones gripping the xbox’s controller.

“I wonder when fatass is going to show up,” Kenny wondered, and reached for his phone to text him.

“Ha. I hope he doesn’t,” murmured Kyle, eyes lingering on the game. Stan blew a car up with the grenade launcher and looked sideways at his friend. Kyle seemed a little glum this evening. He never got to ask how he was dealing with Stan’s depression, considering it a private matter, but he figured that it must be hitting pretty hard. He hoped that Kyle was remembering to take his medication.

Kenny looked up from his phone but gave no indication of hearing what was said. “He’s at the door now! And he brought more snacks.” 

If there was one thing that Stan could trust Cartman with, it was bringing good snacking food. He heard the door close and footsteps ascending, then:

“Kenny, Stan! My two favorite men. And Kyle,” Cartman announced at the doorway and made his way in, holding like, three bags of chips.

Kyle put on a sickly looking smile. He probably thought longer than normal before turning around. “Eric. I’m so… glad to see you,” he bit out, Cartman gave him a questioning look but seemed to shrug it off, turning to Kenny, who happily started conversation with his sort-of-best-friend. 

Stan and Eric got along well enough, but Kyle and Eric was a whole different story altogether. The fights had calmed down over the years as Kyle slowly got better at ignoring his taunts, and Cartman himself seemed to mellow out in his late teens. 

Stan nudged him a little bit to let him know that he was acting a little out of character but Kyle scoffed quietly and rolled his eyes, whispering, “I’m okay with everything else. Being friendly with that _thing_ is another issue entirely,” earning a shrug from Stan, who turned back to the game.

At 2:42 am Stan awoke. He couldn’t even remember when he fell asleep, just turning off the console and saying goodnight to Eric and Kenny before they left for the evening. He and Kyle had stayed up a little later to watch dumb B movies on the couch in the living room. He was dimly aware that he was leaning on something warm, and wrapped up in a blanket. Looking up, he saw that Kyle was still awake, lying back in a relaxed position with his arm around Stan’s shoulder, and keeping him close. Stan felt a surge in his chest at the realization and closed his eyes again, drifting off to sleep once more.

-

Kyle couldn’t take it. Sitting next to Stan so close on the couch brought up renewed feelings and a sick feeling in his stomach. Suddenly he felt a light thump against his shoulder; Stan had fallen asleep during their marathon of bad movies. He’d done this before, so it wasn’t really a surprise to him when it happened. He sighed fondly and brought up the old pokemon blanket they were sharing around his friend’s shoulders, Stan shifted a bit in his sleep, but otherwise remained oblivious.

He was so close, and so peaceful looking. He figured that he could probably get away with just a small kiss. Gently shifting around and shoving back the bile that was rising in his throat, he leaned down and planted a short kiss onto his friend’s head, gently rubbing his fingers across his cheek afterward. The position wasn’t ideal, but he dealt with it. Sighing inwardly, he carefully went back to his original position, hugging Stan with one arm and wondering when this whole ordeal would be over.

He woke up to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen and the spot next to him empty, but with the blanket draped over him. He sat up straighter and stretched a little, blinking the remaining sleepiness from his eyes as they landed on the sight of Stan and Ike in the kitchen helping his mother cook breakfast. His mom wiped her hands on a cloth when she saw that he was awake.

“Stanley! Glad to see you’re awake. Come sit down, breakfast is almost ready.” Sheila cheerfully greeted. Kyle stood and shuffled over to the kitchen, where he grabbed some plates out of the cabinet for them to eat, setting them down on the table.

The food was delicious, it made him ache for more of his mom’s cooking. If this wasn’t over soon, he swore he would have to come back home more often.

“So, Stanley, how is your mother doing after the divorce?” His mom, tactless as ever, asked as he was chewing some of a lamb sausage. 

He paused and looked at Stan, who just shrugged and went back to what he was eating.

“She… she’s doing fine. Ah, well. I mean. The house is a lot emptier now too. Shelly’s just recently gone back to school…” He tried to not make it obvious that he was floundering for an answer. Stan told him a lot about what went on in his house, but the subject of the divorce was still pretty fresh, since Sharon and Randy had separated for good sometime in late August. He knew that Stan was having some trouble adjusting as well, but his father rarely contacted him outside of when he needed to for birthdays and things like that.

“Oy, it’s such a shame. But I know that it needed to be done. Poor Sharon.” She reached over from her seat next to Stan and patted her son’s back. “I don’t know what I would do if I divorced Gerald…” she trailed off sadly, and Stan looked at her for a moment.

“I saw Stan kiss Kyle last night!” Ike suddenly announced, loudly.

Kyle’s head snapped up so fast it could have broken his neck, his face turning red. “Ike!” He yelled, forgetting his place for a moment. His brother could be so immature! He was almost 10, he should know better by now.

“Ike, don’t be ridiculous-” Shiela went off into one of her tirades.

Stan’s gaze shifted over to Kyle and if it were even possible his face became even redder. What was Ike even doing up so late?! He forced himself to derail his thoughts and focus on something else. Stan’s eyes were boring a hole deep into him, his expression unreadable at best.

“I-I didn’t do anything like that.” _Real convincing, Kyle,_ he scolded himself. “St- Kyle.” 

Stan perked up.

“You would know! You were there too.” 

A sly smirk came across Stan’s features, “I dunno _Stan_ , I _was_ asleep for most of the night. Who knows?” 

Kyle wanted to throttle his best friend at that moment. He was _not_ helping.

“Well, I do!” Ike said, crossing his arms, and the discussion seemed to end for now, Sheila admonishing her youngest son.

-

On the 4th, Kyle found himself walking home with Kenny, who was obviously growing increasingly suspicious of the duo. Kenny loved the supernatural, was all he would ever talk about if given the chance. He and Craig got along well because of their shared interest in it. Stan wasn’t with them since he was roped in with Kyle’s friends to do an after school session of Magic, which, as hilarious as it would be to watch Stan flounder around with his cards, Kyle thought it was best to go home and finish up some homework early.

“Kyle?” The suddenness of his real name made him pause and turn around to look at Kenny, who had stopped about a foot away from him with a scarily determined expression on his face. 

“You’re Kyle, aren’t you?”

He stood there for a moment as Kenny walked closer to him and looked into his face, as if he could read what was going on behind Kyle’s (Stan’s) eyes. Kyle backed away slightly, the wind picked up and blew tinier leaves across the damp snow and skidded down across the road. Kyle looked away from Kenny’s intense hazel eyed stare. It was uncomfortable to be known.

“Of course I’m not, that’s not possible.” He said, his voice cracking over the last part, shrugging his bag around his shoulder. He turned to continue walking toward “home,” but Kenny was obviously not going to give up. He held Kyle back from walking with a tug to his coat. 

“I know you are. You two’ve been behaving weird since last week. I just want to know what happened.” Kenny seemed to be halfway to pleading, as if he really knew how to help them. As far as Kyle knew, they seemed to be stuck like this; backwards and in the wrong bodies. He and Stan could find nothing to reverse the effects no matter where they looked, spending time together more than they ever have in the past few months. It was nice, but his mind flashes back to the night of the change after talking to Stan on the phone, remembering how strange it was to hear his own voice on the other end and looking into the mirror and seeing Stan’s figure.

“Kenny, if it were Kyle…” he paused, swallowing. “If you knew it was me in here… what could you possibly do to help?” His voice broke, turning around to look at Kenny square in the face, gripping a strap on his bag. He was reminded of how strange it was being eye-to-eye with his friend now. “Could you tell me that?” He felt the sting of tears. Stan’s body really was overly emotional sometimes.

“I know a few things, and maybe I’ve been around the goths a few times. That doesn’t matter, though. Anyone with eyes and the knowledge of you two would be able to see that something isn’t right,” he hummed, pacing around Kyle and taking him in: the unusually sleek black hair that wasn’t his, the blue eyes and tired expression, the fact that he was more keen to wear hats these days.

“Yes, but. Only _you_ would come to a conclusion like that,” he halfway chuckled, then added, ”Kenny. If you know about any way to reverse it… please,” Kyle said barely loud enough to be heard. He looked around at the scenery, anywhere but Kenny’s face, because if he did, he _knew_ the floodgates would open. It’s only been a week and he’s already way over it, and he misses his body, his own routines.

Kenny takes his hand and closes his other over it, a kind gesture. Kyle looks into Kenny’s eyes and knows that he will try to help in any way possible

“You two know that you can count on me for things. I’ll help in any way I can.” Kenny smiles, Kyle smiling sadly back at him. 

They part ways after this, Kyle turning around to continue walking forward toward the Marsh house, and Kenny rounding the corner toward his place. Kyle feels as though he’s more at peace than before. They have some help now.

-

Stan stretched out over the desk at the library on the afternoon of the 10th. Kyle looked at him with mild interest, his head mostly buried in the weird occult book that Kenny had given them. Ken was sitting across from the two, toothpick between his lips and hands folded on the table. 

“Did you find _anything_ yet?”

“Stan! Be patient, I just started reading this.” Kyle scolded.

Stan sighed and turned back to his own book: _Strange Magics: The World of Curses._ He half interestedly flipped through the pages, struggling to read the words and squinting hard.

“Dude, you really need glasses,” he muttered. “I’m going to talk to your mom about getting some after I get back to your house.” 

Kyle visibly bristled, he wasn’t going to give Cartman more fuel to tease him. He knew he needed them, he just didn’t like it when people said it aloud. “I don’t need them, I can see fine if I squint,” he said, unconvincingly. 

Stan just rolled his eyes and turned once more to the book, then set it down to look outside the nearby window at the languidly falling snow.

“Maybe it isn’t a curse.” Stan said wistfully, and Kenny and Kyle both looked at him.

“What?” Kyle set down his _Mythos and Magics: The Science of the Dark Arts._ Adjusting his position on the chair, he turned fully toward him. Stan’s hair was really wild today, he briefly noted. He needs to show him how to treat curly hair. “What makes you say that?”

“I mean, maybe it’s some kind of weird blessing? I dunno, I mean, I’m not sure how to word it. We have been spending a lot more time together since this whole thing happened,” he trailed off. Being so near to Kyle was making him sweat with nervousness. God, did Kyle really deal with this whenever he was close to him? He felt almost magnetized toward him, it was weird.

“Stan. That’s really out of necessity,” Kyle chided deadpan, though Stan could tell he was feeling the same way he felt. 

Kenny looked between the two and nodded thoughtfully.

“I think Stan’s right, nothing seems to be badly affecting you two, you’re just… in each other’s bodies. And you both’re functioning as fine as you can be, just, backwards?” Kenny scratched his head and then leaned forward to put a hand under his chin. “Maybe to reverse it you need to do something out of the ordinary for you both,” he wondered.

Stan’s heart thudded. He looked at Kyle and he stared back. “Like what?” They said in unison, turning back to look at Kenny.

Kenny smirked. “I’m not sure. Maybe the answer will reveal itself to you two when the time comes.” 

“When the-! Kenny, we could be like this for months, even years! What if we never figure it out? And then what!” Kyle was barely keeping his voice at library level.

Kenny just laughed. “I’m sure you’ll know when. And I doubt that it will be that long, trust me.”

Stan couldn’t help but share some of Kyle’s sentiments. Even though he loved being around Kyle more often than they had been recently, he was concerned about going through graduation in a few months in the wrong body and having to attend school in something he wasn’t interested in. What if it was never fixed? 

He watched Kyle fidget with one of the straps on his favorite dark green ushanka, a nervous habit he himself picked up years ago, just fidgeting with stuff. Stan thought the hat looked strangely right on his friend’s head, despite their altered appearances.

That evening after a long “study session,” the duo walked toward Stan’s house. Stan wanted to visit home just for the sake of it, and Kyle obviously obliged, having nothing really of note to do after today. Since tomorrow school was cancelled, it was a given that one of them would stay over at the other’s place. Stan had checked out two different books from the library just in case, and Kyle had borrowed yet another book from Kenny to read during their downtime.

Stan opened the door to his house and stamped his feet on the floor of the entrance hallway to clear away snow before taking his shoes off, taking note of the quiet sounds of the radio playing music in the kitchen. He went to announce that he was home to his mother but paused. 

“Hey mom! I’m home.” Kyle shouted instead, for the sake of keeping up appearances, looking at Stan, who looked a little forlorn.

“Oh! Stanley. And Kyle! Come on in, boys, supper is almost ready,” Sharon said as she leaned around the corner of the doorway to the living room. The smells were not at all unwelcome to Stan’s nose. He was excited, it smelled like a roast, one of his mom’s specialities. 

Kyle immediately started upstairs to Stan’s room, his friend following suit.

“Jesus. Stan, your hair is a mess today dude.” Kyle said, voicing his earlier observations at the library and taking some of the soft curls in his hand.

“I know, ugh, I don’t know how to treat curly hair at all, man. I’ve tried everything. Maybe you could show me how to… you know…” He seemed to be struggling to get it out of him. Stan did not like people messing with his hair. Not as much as Kyle, but he liked doing things his own way--Kyle’s reasoning just being self consciousness.

“Yeah, I’ll show you. Here.” And they went into the bathroom, Stan sitting on the closed lid of the toilet while Kyle grabbed some of the hair treatment products he kept at Stan’s place for the purpose of calming it down after sleep.

Sitting on the lid of the toilet in the bathroom of his own house as Kyle messed with his hair should not have bothered him as much as it did. They were both blushing as Kyle came closer to help with the curls and instructing him on how to do it. Stan’s face felt like it was on fire and he felt something stir in him, but it wasn’t his usual gag reflex obviously. It was something else. Something completely different. Warm and inviting. 

When he was finished making his hair look more presentable, Kyle gently brushed a hand against Stan’s face. They looked at each other for a moment, hazel meeting blue, one sitting and the other standing, in the quiet of the Marsh family bathroom listening to the soft ticking of the clock and the gentle plip of the faucet where Kyle had washed his hands from the hair product. Their faces had moved closer together without either of them really noticing, when suddenly they heard someone coming up the stairs and stopping on the second step up.

“Boys? The roast is done!” 

Breath hitching, Stan looked toward the bathroom door first, and then back at Kyle, who straightened up and started moving to open the door. What had just happened between them?

-

Kyle sat at the table in the dining room picking at his roast. Were they really about to kiss? It hadn’t even crossed his mind at the moment that he was going to be kissing his own lips, it was as if some invisible guiding hand was gently pushing them toward each other in that moment. He remembered looking into Stan’s hazel eyes and seeing not himself, but just a person he loved. His face went hot again.

“Stanley, is everything okay? You look flushed. You’re not catching a cold, are you?” 

Kyle gently shoved away the hand that was coming up to his forehead to check his temperature. Stan sniggered at the sight, which earned him a look from Kyle.

“Mom. I’m fine, I promise,” Kyle said, and cut into his portion of meat with renewed interest, then putting a cut portion of it in his mouth and chewing. Maybe he should just eat and not worry about complicated things like kissing and relationships. Sharon’s cooking was good enough to make him stop thinking about the issue for now anyway.

After dinner, the boys were laid up upstairs, Stan lying sideways over Kyle’s stretched out legs, both looking at their respective books. “This magic stuff is insane, I never really bothered to read about things like this. People think this is real?” Kyle half asked himself after finishing up a paragraph about supposed druids in the woods disguised as animals and trees.

“Well, I mean…” Stan gestured to himself. “ _This_ is pretty real. So who’s to say that something like that really does exist.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes and continued reading.

“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly, and Stan sat up from his position across Kyle’s legs. “Here is a section on body switching, it doesn’t say anything about a cure, unfortunately. But it says here that there can be many reasons for individuals to switch, ranging from not getting along to denial.” Kyle trailed off when he said ‘denial.’

“Denial of what, needing glasses?” Which earned Stan a soft thunk on the head. “Hey! That wasn’t fair.” 

Kyle laughed and protected himself with his book from Stan’s oncoming hand. Stan just wouldn’t let the glasses thing go. Maybe he should just let him get the damn things.

“Well, I’m going to hit the sack for now, goodnight dude.” Stan was already changed into his old pajamas as he crawled into his bed to rest. Kyle turned to look at the clock on the nightstand that burned 1:35 am, he supposed it was time for him to sleep too, and got up to take a shower for the night.

-

The next morning, Stan felt his face buried in Kyle’s hair, they seemed to have gravitated closer to each other overnight, not that Stan minded. Kyle’s back was facing him as he slept peacefully under the blankets. Looking around and out his window, he saw that it was snowing again, this time a little heavier than yesterday. The ground outside covered with windswept snow and ghosts of it floating across the road in the breeze. 

Slowly, carefully, he got up and stretched off the remaining fatigue, making his way toward the bathroom for his morning routine. Turning on the shower for it to warm up and looking at himself in the mirror, some part of him hoped that he was back to normal, but he knew that it wasn’t true, not yet.

The warmth of the water was so inviting in the chilly bathroom, that he stood under the spray for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of it as it fell down his head and shoulders. 

After being instructed _not_ to blow dry his curls, he felt odd just leaving it damp after semi drying it with a towel, but he figured he would get used to it. He walked back into his room to see Kyle sitting up on the bed and sleepy eyed, his cowlick sticking out even more than usual, eyes snapping open when he saw that Stan was just wearing a towel and beginning to take it off in front of his dresser.

“Dude! Don’t get dressed in front of me, ugh.” 

“Why should it matter? We’re all mixed up anyway, and you know what you look like,” Stan said, unphased with his back towards Kyle and started putting on clothing.

“It’s still weird.” Kyle mumbled, looking away, a little flushed. Eventually he got up too and started getting dressed. 

Stan had to admit that while he knew what his body looked like, seeing it get dressed was really fucking weird. Not to mention the reaction to it Kyle’s body was having. He had to look away.

“I swear, when this is over with I am never letting anyone get dressed in front of me again.” Kyle shivered, and Stan could only partly agree.

For a while, after Kyle had gone downstairs to get breakfast for them, Stan sat in his made bed (courtesy of Kyle) and thought about last night. He knew they almost kissed. He wasn’t _that_ blind, but more importantly, Kyle’s body’s reaction to it. He felt himself sit up straighter when it happened, almost subconsciously. And as ridiculous as it sounds, he did not even think about how weird it was to almost make out with what was basically his own body. He’s sure that Kyle felt the same way, in some weird vein. God, this situation just kept getting weirder and weirder. 

He let his eyes fall on one of the posters in his room and just stared at it, observing the colors and how they seemed to meld together in his vision, taking in the soothing blues and purples of it and trailing down some of the warmer colors. Another thing he noticed was that colors looked different, probably since Kyle’s eyes were not trained like his to see different hues as well. Just another thing to add to the list. Sighing, he sat back against the wall and propped his feet up on the bed.

“I think I’ve got it.” Kyle’s sudden appearance in the room made Stan jump. He had two bowls of cereal, one was full of cinnamon toast crunch, Stan’s favorite, and the other was bran flakes. He tried not to look disappointed when the bran flakes were shoved his way. “Stan. What if the thing that’s preventing us from getting back to normal is right in front of us.”

“Meaning…” Stan prompted, stirring his spoon in the cereal and taking a bite.

“You know! What if it’s a physical action, like, doing something at the same time.” Kyle gesticulated with his spoon from his seat on the computer chair as he said this, some small stray droplets of milk getting on the brown carpet.

“What, like hitting each other or slamming together or something like that dumb movie?” Stan said around his mouthful of cereal.

“Well, sort of like that…” he trailed off again, putting his finished bowl down. Kyle was definitely enjoying being able to eat anything he wanted, that much was certain, Stan thought. 

Stan returned to his half finished bowl, chewing slowly. Jesus, he used to get on Kyle for eating so slow but it really felt like there was no room in his stomach at all. He felt like he had to force himself to eat sometimes. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

-

They abruptly decide to go over to Kenny’s place after breakfast in an effort to find out more about what he meant yesterday at the library. Kyle knocked on the beaten down screen door and Kenny himself answered with rubber gloves and holding a garbage bag; he must have been cleaning.

“Hey guys! Come in, oh, Craig is here too.” 

Kyle blinked at the mention of him, and Stan seemed to show no emotion beyond flicking his eyes in the direction of Kyle for a brief moment. They walked inside past the dingy living room and into the single hallway leading to Kenny’s room where Craig was lying quite comfortably in a bean bag playing on Kenny’s old PSP. 

He looked up when he saw Stan and Kyle enter the room. “Hello Stan, Kyle,” Craig calmly addressed them both in his usual monotone. “Kenny told me a bit about your situation last night, uh. It’s true, right?” 

Kyle was a little startled by this admission from someone he barely ever spoke to. He was a little peeved that Kenny would confide in someone about their particular issue without running it by them first.

“Ah, yeah. It’s true. I’m Kyle, he’s Stan,” he said, pointing to Stan, who was busy looking around the room, avoiding looking directly at Craig. He never really liked him that much.

Craig didn’t say much beyond a grunt, signaling that he did in fact hear what Kyle said, and went back to playing whatever game was on the PSP.

A loud clang could be heard as Kenny shut the screen door and main one, flicking the lock. Kenny had taken up the mantle of paying the bills with a combination of many different jobs, so he could take care of Karen where his parents couldn’t, or wouldn’t, in his father’s case. The house was pleasantly warm from the cold November air.

Kenny walked into his room and plopped down at the edge of his bed. “So!” he clapped his gloveless hands together, “What’s up? Didja need anything?”

Kyle stood next to the window in Kenny’s room, arms crossed, looking a bit uncomfortable. “We were wondering what exactly you meant at the library yesterday.”

Stan nodded in affirmation from the position he was in near the bed. “We read more of the book that you lended and did find a section on body swaps, but it was really unclear. Our situation seems to be different from those listed.”

Kenny hummed and crossed his legs. “You think so?” 

His response took Kyle aback a little. He, well, he couldn’t be implying something else, right? It’s too ridiculous. Why would they switch over a reason like that? There had to be something else-

“You’re thinking too hard about it, both of you are. Things like this tend to sort themselves out with time.” Kenny assured, and Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if Kenny had anything to do with it, or if he was just being his optimistic self. Probably the latter. Most likely the latter. Kenny was a strange guy in general, going missing sometimes for days or weeks, only to suddenly turn up as if nothing happened. The memories surrounding his disappearances were always hazy, too. “I would know too, I’ve been in plenty of strange situations before,” he added.

Kyle didn’t know what he meant by that, but believed him anyway. He looked back over at Stan and Craig, the former of the two trying to be sneaky about looking at what was being played on the PSP, and the latter feigning disinterest but somehow seeming entranced in what was on the screen. 

He made his way over and waited for Kenny to move over so he could sit next to him and Stan. Kenny smiled and Kyle peered over Craig’s shoulder at the game.

“It’s called God of War.” 

Stan jumped. 

“If you stop trying to see over my shoulder, I can show you how to play.” 

Stan slowly got down from the bed and sat on the floor next to Craig, who gave him the PSP and Stan listened intently to how to play, Craig calling him an idiot when he kept dying to a simple enemy.

They all hung out like this for a while until it was just beginning to get dark outside, and Stan, not wanting to walk home in the darkness, suggested that they get ready to leave soon. Besides, he said, not unkindly, he had to eat something other than the rice crackers that Kenny offered them to munch on while he and Craig took turns on the console.

-

The evening at the Broflovski house was quiet enough after dinner. Ike kept mostly to himself and didn’t seem to let on that he thought anything was wrong with his older brother at all. Stan tried to keep up appearances as best as he could, but he was always a poor actor.

Sheila wished him goodnight and closed the door, eyeing him worriedly as she did it. Stan wasn’t able to do much but give her a reassuring smile to let her know that everything was fine. Well, as fine as it could be.

He sat alone in the darkness of Kyle’s room on the bed, legs bent up and his head resting on his folded arms, preoccupying himself by looking out at the dreary night. The weather in South Park seemed to change on a whim. Earlier, the sky was thick with sleet, and now it was raining softly and leaving little holes in the melting snow on the tree just outside his window. He yawned as he watched the shadows of rain as they fell by a street lamp.

Eventually he got up and walked toward the computer on the other end of the room to do some late night research. Finding a website that looked promising, he reached into one of the drawers in the desk to pull out a pencil and some paper and jotted down some of the things he found. 

As he went to put the pencil away, his hands brushed against something soft. Curious, he gently pulled it out of its hiding space underneath some papers in the drawer. It was a letter that he wrote in 1998 to Kyle for some assignment he couldn't remember now, but it was decorated with faded deep red glitter and orange felt surrounding the edges of the imperfectly cut square of the card. He opened it and smiled. After so many years, he couldn't believe that Kyle kept it.

He went to bed that night with a warm feeling in his chest.

-

A loud clang startled Stan out of his sleep. His eyes snapped open and he immediately went to look around the room, eventually settling on the window and seeing a thunderstorm. He watched the snow heavily being pelted and washed down the road to calm himself down. Looking at the desk clock that sat on the night stand, he saw that it read 4:08 am. He sighed and turned to look out the window again, watching the rain droplets patter against the window. 

He thought about his discovery in the desk hours before and he felt a wave of emotions wash over him again, seeing its outline on the computer desk in the dark. He wondered if he should call Kyle, if he was even awake right now. His heart beat a little faster at the thought, realizing things about himself that he never bothered to know before.

All at once it seemed to click into place for him, the way Kyle’s body felt around his, how Kyle himself seemed to freeze up around him or go quiet, as if something was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t say. As if…

Stan’s eyes widened.

-

Kyle woke up to the sight of Stan waiting in his room on the desk chair. He startled from his position on the bed and choked out, “What the hell?!” Blushing, he immediately pulled the covers up higher so he wouldn’t see the stupid shirt that he pulled out from the depths of the closet last night to wear to bed. 

“Kyle.” And with that one word, Stan got his attention entirely. “Get dressed, we need to go for a walk.”

As he said this, Stan threw some randomly picked articles of clothing at him, and waited outside of the room for him to change. 

While getting dressed, Kyle tried not to think too hard about his friend’s composure that morning. He seemed serious and scarily determined, like he knew something, or that he knew something had to be done. As if suddenly, something just clicked into place that hadn’t before. He finished putting on a sweater and opened the door to see Stan leaning thoughtfully against the bannister next to the stairs with his coat already on.

They walked in relative silence for a while before Kyle noticed that he was being led to Stark’s Pond. Stan tentatively reached for Kyle’s hand and he took it. Kyle was taken a little aback by the gentle nature of the action, but it was not at all unwelcome in his eyes. Stan led him up the stone pathway toward the edge of the water where the old bench was, the morning sun casting a radiant glow on the still water of the pond. He could see steam rising up to dance in the sun’s rays. It was beautiful.

Suddenly, Stan stopped and let go of Kyle’s hand. “I know now… and I’m sorry.” Before Kyle could ask for clarification, Stan looked up at him with fiery determination burning behind his hazel eyes. “I feel like an idiot for not noticing sooner. I feel like I knew for the longest time, but my mind took a while to catch up with my body.

“Even if we never get back to normal, I don’t think it will ever fade. I…” He looked down again, visibly swallowing, and all Kyle could do was stare in silent awe at his friend.

“Even if we’re all mixed up, it wouldn’t matter to me because when I look at you, at your eyes, I don’t see myself, _I see you,_ and I know, even if it meant that I would never be in my body again, that I would _always_ love you, Kyle.” His voice broke over his friend’s name, tears brimming over.

Kyle stared wet-eyed at his friend, searching for words, anything to say. He felt the same way, he knew it deep down in the very essence of himself, he knew. He gently pulled Stan into a hug, and his friend hugged him back, quiet tears making their way down his face. Reaching, he softly pulled Stan’s head upward, and their eyes met once more. It wasn’t very different from how it was in the bathroom at his house a week ago, though, somehow it was better.

Their heads moved closer together until they meshed into a kiss, silent and sweet. The sun seemed to rise higher and cast its soft, yellow glow on the remaining snow on the ground, beginning to melt the ice that had formed on tree branches from the storm the night before. 

Kyle pulled back and opened his eyes to find himself looking up into Stan’s face, and smiled in a way that Stan couldn’t help but return. He felt as if he always knew that whatever spell was cast on them ended this way, they were both too stubborn to realize their own feelings for each other, too in denial. 

Stepping apart they each looked over their respective selves, and joined together in another hug, things were finally back to normal. It took a while, but everything worked out in the end. And they were both glad of it.

And in some ways, Kyle thought, being swapped with his best friend taught him more about him than he ever knew, and he loved Stan all the more because of it.


End file.
